


[Bucky is typing]

by darter_blue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Flirting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shrunkyclunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25369867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Steve just wants to wind down, post mission, with the silly cupcake game Clint downloaded onto his stark phone.He doesn't know who 'Bucky' is, or why he's texting Steve so aggressively.He doesn't mean to answer the phone and argue with the charming voice on the other end.He certainly never meant for the arguing to be interpreted as flirting...But maybe he should just go with it?Maybe Bucky is exactly the leap Steve needs to take, to find his way in the world again.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 177
Kudos: 795





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anybody needed something soft and fluffy to wrap them up like a warm blanket, I present cute, cute, and more cute fluff.
> 
> enjoy.
> 
> cross posted to tumblr here: [darter-blue.tumblr.com](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/post/623112476641427456/stucky-quick-fic)

Steve is so tired, he’s thinking about stealing the duct tape from Tony's emergency kit to keep his eyeballs from falling out of his head. 

They’re mid flight back to New York from… wherever they were this time (somewhere cold and dark and exhausting). Nat is on his left, asleep with her eyes open, which is the creepiest thing Steve has ever seen - and he once watched Dum Dum wash dirty underwear in his regulation M1 helmet then wear it into a skirmish (they all came out alive, maybe it was good luck).

His phone isn't in his pocket, which is typical Steve Rogers luck, all he wants is to play a few rounds of that terrifyingly addictive cupcake game Clint downloaded for him to switch his brain off. But, oh! It's under Nat's seat. 

And his fucking passcode locks him out after three wrong attempts, of course! So he uses the Captain America override function that all these goddamn Tonytech Avengers phones have with his thumbprint. Before he has a chance to even look for the game a message pops up on his screen. 

  
  


**Received** : First of all you just ignored my cats dressed up as Santa, so fuck you. Secondly…

The ellipses show up to say this person is typing more, but Steve has no idea what on Earth it's about, or who it's from (Bucky? What's a Bucky?), So he quickly types back and hits enter.

**Sent** : who is this?

The ellipses stop and then start again, and quite quickly Steve receives a reply:

**Received** : Dont you new phone who dis me asshole

Which is mystifying, because those words don't make any semblance of sense in a sentance together and why the fuck is this _Bucky_ so angry?

**Sent** : I think, firstly, your language is uncalled for.

Oh god, he is turning into his mother. 

**Received** : Natasha, wtf

Oh! Maybe this is a wrong number? Maybe his and Nat's numbers are just one digit off or something.

**Sent** : Ah, well, I think you have me mistaken for your friend.

**Received** : EXCUSE ME

 **Received** : AFTER ALL THESE YEARS THIS IS HOW YOU DO ME

This seems like an excessive response, Steve wonders if he'll need to actually wake Nat for this. Maybe it's best to just refrain from hyperbole and set the poor man (woman?) Right.

**Sent** : No, I mean, you think I’m someone I’m not.

It occurs to Steve right after sending that, he is being somewhat obtuse.

**Received** : Nat, omg, what are you talking about???

Okay, Steve, spell it out:

**Sent** : No sorry, I’m not Natasha

**Received** : What?

**Sent** : I’m Steve

**Receieved** : Who the fuck is Steve?

Immediately the phone is ringing. A picture of a ridiculously attractive man pops up as a display picture and it must be an actor or a model Tony has programmed into the phone as a joke _(one time_ he lets slip that Jimmy Stewart would be his Hall pass and he'll never live it down).

He answers, because it would be rude not to. 

'Who are you and why do you have Natasha's phone?' 

'I think maybe you have the wrong number,' Steve says back to that gruff, salty greeting (salty is his new favourite word of the day, thanks to the urban dictionary app FRIDAY put on his phone) 

'I… hang on..' the phone goes silent for a moment and Steve likes to think he's waiting very patiently for Mr grumpy to come back on and apologise profusely. He secretly is quite interested to hear that voice when it's not so gruff, and maybe a little contrite. 'No!' the voice barks into Steve's unsuspecting ear, 'This is definitely Nat's phone. I am not going crazy.' 

And for the first time Steve wonders if it's entirely possible this is, infact, Natasha's phone.

Huh.

'You still there, dude?' Bucky asks. And Steve grunts to confirm he is, but pulls the phone away slightly to check, and oh. Look at that. There is no crack in the bottom left hand corner of the back of the case.

Oops.

'Ah, so it looks like you might be right,' Steve says, in lieu of an apology.

'Oh good, okay, you're not going to apologise for causing me a ridiculous amount of identity crisis for three a.m on a Monday morning?'

'No,' is Steve's answer. Partly because he never apologises. Partly because it's sort of fun to fuck with this guy.

'Wow, nice. Okay _, Steve,_ what the fuck are you doing answering Nat's phone at this late hour?' Bucky asks, his voice has lost its gruff edge, has taken on the mild warmth of amusement (it is even more pleasant than Steve had anticipated), 'You guys hook up or something?'

'What? No!' Steve blurts out wildly, before he can stop himself (but, _yuck._ Natasha is like the pain in the ass little sister Steve never asked for) 'We _work_ together.'

'Ah,' Bucky says, like he's just discovered a state secret, 'You're Steve from work.'

Oh lord, what has Natasha been saying about him?

'You sound cuter than I was expecting.'

What. Does that mean?

'I uh…' Steve is at a loss, 'I am not _cute_.' 

Steve is a thirty something year old super soldier too world weary to even wear a parachute these days. He is not. Fucking. _Cute_.

'Sure, send me a selfie, I need to judge for myself.' He can hear Bucky chuckling to himself on the other end of the phone.

'Im not sending you a selfie.'

'Fair enough, you want me to judge in person, I can respect that,' Bucky says, and the warmth in his voice has reached dangerous levels. It's affecting Steve more than it should. 'Okay, if you've got Nat's phone by mistake, I'm guessing you guys are together, which means you'll be here in New York. Which means you can meet me at Elsa's tomorrow night at nine.'

'I don't… know where that is?' Steve says, flustered and breathless. 

'Google it, okay it was nice chatting Steve but I gotta go,' he can hear Bucky yawn, the crack of his jaw, 'You shouldn't be calling people at three in the morning, it's rude.'

'I didn't… You called me!' Steve says incredulously. Except Bucky has already hung up. He pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it, like it might offer him some answers. 

It does not.

It does have a picture of Bucky in the contact information though. And okay, if he's not a model or an actor then life is just unfair. Steve doesn't realise he's staring at the phone until Natasha's voice breaks through his musing.

'Two years I've been trying to set you up with someone nice and you end up picking up my best friend with a butt dial?'

Steve looks over at her and she hasn't moved at all. She still looks asleep. She really is creepy.

'It wasn't a butt dial!' he doesn't even know what that is, but he's sure it doesn't apply here.

'Uhuh. Remind me to get Tony to take your fingerprint override off my phone.'

  
  


Steve lays Nat's phone gently in her lap where she pretends to sleep on. He fishes his own out of his pocket, must have been there the whole time, and puts his head in his hands. 

He just wanted to play his cupcake game…

The phone pings a few seconds later and it's a message from Nat; Bucky's contact information (including his picture).

And he isn't sure what this feeling in his gut is, but it's definitely not the roiling miasma of banality that has been stuck there lately.

  
  


Which is probably a good enough reason to not back out of this.

Really, how bad could one drink with a handsome stranger be?

He leans back in his seat and let's his head fall against the headrest. It could be nice actually.

'Atta boy, Steve.' Nat says, still as a statue.

Steve is pretty sure she can read minds.

He wouldn't even put it past her to have set this whole thing up somehow. 

The tiny tilt at the corner of her mouth suggests he might not be wrong.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. two

Steve isn't sure when it happened, but tomorrow night at nine is suddenly now. Which means he’s about to walk into a strange bar, to meet a strange man, whom he may or may not already be half way in love with over the strength of a handful of text messages and a flirtatiously aggressive phone call. 

Steve’s been deliberating over every single choice he has made in the last fifteen or so hours. Honestly? He’s not a fan of this feeling. What does he wear? What does he say when he gets there? How does he avoid awkward questions about his Captain America persona? Should he try to arrive early and get the jump on Bucky, be ready for him, or should he try to arrive fashionably late? That’s a thing now right? 

Tony’s always saying that, nobody cool arrives on time.

The decision gets taken out of his hands anyway, because yes, he leaves the apartment early, all set to get there and scope the place out, figure out what kind of hipster beer they serve (because Brooklyn is no longer  _ his _ Brooklyn). Except he gets turned around somehow, google maps takes him in the wrong direction and he’s tempted to throw his stupid Stark phone into a dumpster and set it on fire. Only then he’d have no way to contact Bucky, and he hates the idea of leaving him there waiting.

**Sent:** Hey, Bucky, this is Steve Rogers, I’m running about 7.5 minutes late. I’m so sorry.

  
  


He feels the phone ping in reply and checks it while he’s running (he’s calculated that ETA based on his speed and the distance to travel. He doesn’t have time to stop - and he’s hesitant to go any faster, lest he sweat through his shirt. It took him a really long time to decide on this outfit - he will not ruin it).

**Received:** well hey Steve Rogers. Im happy to hear you haven’t stood me up. I was ready to give up on you when I looked at my watch and realised * **it isn’t even nine yet** * 

Steve dodges a skateboarder, looking up from the phone long enough to manoeuvre around her, and then gets a second ping.

**Received:** Im kinda digging the wholesome vibe you have going tho

And then has to leap over a puppy who’s been tied up outside the deli (who’s walking their dog at nine o'clock at night? Oh, right. It’s Brooklyn) and gets a third ping.

**Received:** Very sweet of you to txt

He can feel himself blush as he reads that. He hadn’t meant to be sweet. He’s just used to people needing to know where he is at all times. Maybe that’s not a thing that most people need to worry about, but it does feel nice to know that his consideration is appreciated.

He slows his pace a little, he’s making good time, there’s less people out than he had anticipated which is making the trek easier. Also, now that he’s exchanged more  _ actual _ words with Bucky he wants to make sure he looks good when he gets there. He’s nervous again.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling. But he’s been putting up with these weird butterflies all day.

And he can see the sign for Elsa’s. He’d looked up the place online (research had been integral to the outfit choice) and now that he can see the patrons coming and going he feels okay. His dark jeans and white button down seemed safe but attractive. And Natasha had persuaded him that the obscenely tight fit was appropriate.  _ And _ he’s wearing his lucky leather jacket, so fingers crossed this is going to be fine.

Then he walks in the front door and is confronted with the reality of Bucky in the flesh. And Steve  _ was not _ prepared for this level of perfection. The man is absolutely  _ beautiful _ up close. 

How is that possible? How is it possible he could be  _ more _ attractive in real life than a photo…

Steve has walked through the doors and come to a dead stop. So of course the room has gone quiet. There's only seating room for people at a few scattered tables and stools along the bar. It's at maybe three quarter capacity right now. And everyone is looking at Steve. And Steve is just staring at Bucky. Who has now turned to see what the fuss is about and as his eyes fall on Steve they widen, and a slow, sly smile starts to work it's way up at the corners of Bucky's mouth. He looks over his shoulder to his left and right, turns back to find Steve still staring at him and the smile spreads.

Most of the crowd have gone back to their drinks (he thinks maybe one or two camera shutters went off, but he's not paying attention) and Bucky sets his glass on the bar, stands up from the stool and then looks a bit lost.

Which is adorable, especially considering how forthright he's been about everything up to this point. And standing, he's even more spectacular. In a white t-shirt and navy blue blazer, fitted pants and fluffy, wavy dark hair sitting artfully mussed atop his head, he should be on the cover of a magazine. Steve's fingers itch to put all of that beauty on the page. Map out the sharpness of his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the short sculpted beard. Trace the long lines of his lean frame with charcoal.

'Steve?' Bucky asks tentatively, less sure now that Steve has made no move to step closer

'Hey, Bucky,' Steve replies, finally taking a step down into the bar and towards his date.

'Wow.'

'No, I think that's my line,' Steve says, he can feel his grin taking over and he gives zero fucks about how ridiculous he might look.

Bucky ducks his head at the compliment and takes a small step back to let Steve get closer, and offers him the next stool at the bar. 'I guess you were right about the not being cute thing,' Bucky says.

Steve reaches him at the bar and raises an eyebrow.

'Yeah, this is a whole other level,' Bucky gestures up and down Steve's person with a wave of his hand, 'This is some Greek god nonsense.'

Steve laughs at the strange compliment and holds out a hand for Bucky to shake, which he takes, 'It's nice to meet you, Bucky,' he says, still smiling, not quite able to shift his gaze from Bucky's steel blue eyes, alight with promise.

'It's nice to meet you too, Steve.' And Bucky hasn't let go of Steve's hand, even as they both sit. He just transfers it to his left and threads their fingers together, lifts their hands to rest on the bar. like it's the easiest thing in the world.

Steve has never felt so connected in his life, it feels like finally coming home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> big hugs to everyone, drop me a comment if you wanna share the love ❤
> 
> you can find me here on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darter-blue)
> 
> Edit! - due to popular demand- a third chapter has been posted ❤


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some of you lovelies seemed interested in a third chapter - and, as ever, I am here to deliver the fluff ❤

Steve doesn't understand how it happened, but he's on a date, at a bar, with a supposed stranger, who Steve feels like he's known his entire life. Every minute more that they spend together just exacerbates that feeling. 

'Should we get something to drink?' Bucky asks, hand still holding Steve's, their fingers threaded together on the bar. And Steve wants to smile, or laugh, or cry, but he doesn't want to look like he's being held together by spit and twigs here, so he does none of the above. He keeps his face as serene as he feels he can make it and tries to remember the question.

What was the question?

'Steve?' Bucky repeats.

'Sorry, what was that?' he has to ask in the end, because otherwise he's just staring at Bucky, not speaking and not answering his question and that would be weird.

Bucky just laughs though, soft and low, and Steve could listen to nothing but the sound of that laugh for the rest of his life and die a happy man.

Oh wow. That's... not a normal thing to think about someone you just met. 

'Did you want a drink, Steve?' Bucky asks again, with a little tilt to his head, 'Do you drink?'

'Yeah, yes I drink,' oh, well.. no he doesn't actually. He hasn't been able to since the serum. 'Or well... no, not really...'

Bucky raises one beautifully arched eyebrow, 'That doesn't really clear things up for me, Steve.'

'Sorry, I mean, I  _ can _ drink, like I physically can drink, and do sometimes, but I can't ah,' he hesitates, because it's not his favourite thing in the world, to talk about the changes the serum has wrought in his body, 'It doesn't really affect me the same way anymore.'

'Ah,' Bucky says, 'That's fine, we can just do coffee? They have good coffee here.'

'Isn't it a bit late for coffee?'

'Oh, I'm sort of addicted,' Bucky says, leaning back, pulling at Steve's hand but not letting go, 'I drink it like water most days.'

'Is that why you're up and accosting my teammates at all hours of the morning? Too much coffee?'

'Oh, still grumpy about that, huh?' Bucky laughs that laugh again and Steve's insides are acting out a fantastical chorus line. 'I seem to remember you accosting me right back.'

'I did not!

'You didn't?' Bucky is smiling like he loves this, 'So that  _ wasn't _ you trolling me back about my bad language and not having real friends?'

'I was confused,’ Steve has to actively try not to frown at Bucky's accusations. He's failing, if the look on Bucky's face is anything to go by, ‘I really thought it was my phone...' 

'Aww, honey, I know, I'm just messing with you,' Bucky says, leaning forward now into Steve's space, bringing their faces criminally close together, 'You're sweet when you pout.'

Steve wants to bristle at that, but honestly? Having Bucky's face so close to his, having his soft, pink lips within a kissable distance has shut something down in his brain and... he's forgotten what they were talking about again.

Bucky is smirking like he absolutely has Steve's number.

Steve doesn't mind one bit. 

‘We could just skip all this,’ Bucky says, ‘If you like?’

‘Skip what?’ Steve asks, what did he miss?

‘This,’ Bucky gestures to the bar around them, ‘We don’t have to hang around.’

‘You want to go?’ Steve asks, and he doesn’t mean to sound so unsure about it, but… aren’t they having a good time?

Fuck, it’s been too long since Steve did anything like this. He’s forgotten the rules (he’s not sure he ever knew them. He’s not sure they haven’t changed so drastically that it wouldn’t matter anyway).

‘Yes... I mean… only if you do, we can stay, if you want,’ and Bucky is biting his lip, ducking his head, ‘Or we could… I live just around the corner? I make really good coffee…’

‘Oh!’ Steve says, and now he gets it, he’s sitting up straighter in his chair, ‘You mean we could go together?’

‘Yes!’ Bucky lets out a breath and sinks back onto his stool, ‘Sorry, I meant  _ we _ could go.’

‘Sure, we can do that,’ Steve says with a squeeze of his hand, his hand that’s still curled around Bucky’s, ‘I’d like that.’

And so it is, with minimal to and fro, they are up and off their stools, heading away from the crowds and the overpriced drinks and walking, hand in hand, back the way Steve had come running, barely an hour ago.

Bucky is periodically looking over at Steve and smiling. Steve is periodically doing the same. They are somehow managing to avoid obstacles as they pay attention to almost nothing in their way. Steve isn’t even sure how long they’ve been walking when Bucky stops them at a burnt rust brick row house.

‘This is me,’ he says, tilting his head toward the front door, smile small and his teeth fixed around that bottom lip again.

‘You gonna invite me in?’ Steve asks, taking a step closer and letting his voice drop low.

Totally worth the gamble when Bucky swallows audibly and licks his lips. Steve kinda wants to bite right into them. 

'Yeah, yes, definitely,' Bucky nods, pretty emphatically, 'Please come in.'

And he fumbles with his keys as he leads Steve up the steps, Steve taking the opportunity to crowd in behind Bucky and make his fumbling more pronounced.

It backfires beautifully when Bucky leans his body back against Steve, tipping his head back to rest against Steve's shoulder and they are both stuck in something of a holding pattern, soaking up the intimacy and not wanting to let go. 

Just as Bucky turns his face up and tilts it back towards Steve, the door opens from the inside and an elderly gentleman crosses his arms at the two of them blocking his exit.

'I'm so sorry Bill, let me,' Bucky says, elbowing Steve to move back so he can pull the wrought iron screen door open for his neighbour and they both step aside to let him through.

'Thank you, Bucky,' the man, Bill, says as he passes by, nodding his head, and then looks at Steve, 'Captain Rogers.'

He isn't sure if Bill is attempting to be subtle, but Steve certainly doesn't miss him waggling his eyebrows and winking at Bucky. Who's cheeks are now flushed a lovely shade of dusty pink. 

Bucky turns to Steve as Bill strolls away and mouths 'sorry,' with the sort of cross between a smirk and a grimace that Steve finds utterly adorable. So adorable that he can't help but lean into Bucky against the open screen door, duck his head down and whisper, 'I don't mind,' with his lips pressed to Bucky's ear.

'Oh my god,' Bucky whispers back, 'You're a menace.' He pulls Steve in through the open door. 'Inside with you, before you get me into trouble.'

Bucky leads him up to his second floor apartment by the hand and lets them in, turning to Steve as soon as the door closes behind them.

'Now,' Bucky says, stepping in and running a finger down the buttons on Steve's shirt, 'Do you really want coffee?'

Steve's breath catches at the touch of Bucky's fingers. At the idea of them slipping under the fabric. He shakes his head. 'I don't really drink coffee either,' he admits, and slides his hands around Bucky's waist to pull him in.

Bucky is looking up at Steve and smiling, biting that lip again on purpose, Steve is sure, reaching up to cup Steve's cheek and run a thumb over his cheekbone. 'Good to know.' And he closes the distance, leans up and presses his lips softly to Steve's. Gentle, warm, tentative. Perfect.

Steve presses back, tightening his hold on Bucky, snaking his hands up Bucky's back, deepening the kiss by opening his mouth to it, catching Bucky's bottom lip between his own and pulling it in. Pushing to trace his tongue along Bucky's and taste him. And Bucky opens himself to it, pushes back. Clutches at Steve, breath hitching and heart beating madly. 

It's enough to ground Steve and slow him down. He pulls back slowly, standing to his full height (his own heartbeat quickens as Bucky rises to his toes to follow him), 'Bucky,' Steve leans his head left to press his cheek against Bucky's forehead, 'I do drink tea though.'

'Tea?' Bucky says, drawing back from Steve, 'You want tea now?' He shakes his head slightly, as if to clear it, 'I do have some tea, I think…'

'Not now,' Steve says, pulling Bucky back in with purpose, 'I mean with breakfast,' and slides their lips back together, exactly where they belong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a small possibility I could be convinced to do a smutty fourth chapter if anyone is interested (drop me a note in the comments - or an ask or dm [here](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/) on tumblr or [here](https://twitter.com/beclouise13) on twitter


End file.
